


In a Week

by JoshWashington



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, Graphic depictions of bodily decay, Haysinger, M/M, Out of Body Experiences, Songfic, but not in the traditional sense, but poetic, inner peace, post death thought and existence, risingwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoshWashington/pseuds/JoshWashington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon reflects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Week

It was always cold. Being dead seemed like it would be peaceful, dis-sentient. After the seventh day of being slowly picked away by animals and being laden with both blistering heat and freezing rain, Jon was more aware and intune with the world than he'd ever really been alive. It had been a shock to die, blood chilling to match the cold night air and everything numbing. He could see around his body, though his eyes never moved. He could feel the grass growing, the sunset carnations crowing his head, and the foxes that crept near and feasted upon his gut. 

It wasn't terrible. It was, in some aspects, comforting. He wasn't alone, Ryan's cold hand gripping his closely as they curled together, legs just as twined as their fingers. He faced Jon, lips blue from the cold and eyes almost closed, the slow decay of his face advanced by the insects and animals that feasted on their bodies and gnawed their bones until reaching marrow. Jon was sure he looked the same, long hair matted and clotted with dirt and leaves. 

The day it had snowed was his favorite, ironic considering they had died of hypothermia. The fluffy snowflakes covered Ryan's face in sparse and uneven clumps, settling in his eyelashes thickly. Since they were both as cold as the storm, the snowflakes didn't melt until the sun began to creep from the clouds. Then the heat caused an exposed organ to rupture in Jon, startling a few birds that had settled upon them to take what hadn't rotted or what was shiny. It didn't hurt, the dead nerves unable to send something to the grey matter rotting in his skull. 

Sometimes he wondered if he was in his body, or simply observing from another plane of existance. Jon had never put much thought into the matter of an after life. He assumed you died or were in eternal peace- neither Heaven nor Hell summoning you, or any supernatural affects or greater existence. Not that it mattered, he couldn't change that he was here. Maybe Ryan was like him, trapped staring into the others eyes until they were merely bones and hair and nails.

The shouting suprised him, voices gargled and indiscernable. Whatever they were saying they were frantic, and there was the faint sound of a siren. Jon watched Ryan through it all, seeing his eyelids finally close fully and the grip on his hand tighter and warmer for a fleeting second. Jon closed his eyes as well, feeling himself numb and fade with Ryan as their bodies were put into bags and hauled away from their place in the carnations, the indents of their bodies firmly carved into the small field.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in about an hour. Felt like being a little flowery and poetic. Based heavily on In a Week by Andrew Hozier-Byrne


End file.
